Those Damn Cinderblocks
by wencho17
Summary: Dean Ambrose was learning that he could forgive a lot, including the betrayal of Seth Rollins when he broke up the Shield. But Dean was no saint, and if there was one thing he couldn't look past, never would, it was the moment someone he called a brother looked into his eyes and stomped his head straight into the concrete. Post-Battleground. SR/DA Three-shot. More info inside.
1. Those Damn Cinderblocks

**Those Damn Cinderblocks**

 **A/N – So, I've recently been having a couple conversations with people (and watching old clips on youtube) about a Shield reunion or a Seth/Dean face team in light of a Roman heel turn. And every time, there's this giant obstacle standing in the way. And it's not the June 2** **nd** **incident either. Because in my mind, time has kind of healed that wound and I think if Dean were to really step back, he would see that if he was in the same position, he would have done things exactly how Seth did. So, I think that much is forgiven. But every time I look at these two and their rivalry playing out on screen, I can't help but think, can the cinderblocks ever be forgiven?**

 **So, I decided to write my take on exactly that, told through the eyes of Dean himself. This is a one-shot with a potential for more depending on if people want me to continue. And my last couple Shield one-shots have kinda been Dean-absent so this one is entirely him. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Oh, and one more thing. This is independent of the WWE Draft and takes place after the events at Battlegrround, which yes, involve a Roman heel turn and Seth face turn. Everything you need to know is explained in the story though.**

 **#BelieveintheShieldReunion**

There were days like last Monday, when his former brother unexpectedly and inexplicably came to his aid against AJ Styles and the Club, when all Dean Ambrose wanted to do was forgive Seth Rollins. When all he wanted to do was put everything in the past and just try to see if they could in fact save some semblance of their friendship which had meant so much to him.

But those days were few and far between and were often followed by ones, like today, where Dean woke up with painful, brutal headaches that served as easy reminders as to why he couldn't and why he wouldn't forgive Seth even if he wanted to.

Those damn cinderblocks.

There was a lot Dean could get past.

Sure, the way Seth betrayed both him and Roman, the way he so cavalierly threw away their two years of brotherhood hurt. It hurt like hell. As much as his back ached that day from the cold steel of the chair coming in contact with it over and over again, it was the emotional pain that outweighed the physical. It was the dark, unfeeling coldness in Seth's eyes, in his face, that hurt so much more than a stupid chair ever could. Because it was like he was disconnected from it all, that destroying the Shield meant nothing to him, that Dean and Roman meant nothing to him and maybe never had.

Dean didn't even see one hint of remorse in those eyes and that was the worst part of it all.

But even so, Dean knew that he could forgive that day. He would never forget and the memory of watching Roman go down before it was his turn to take the beating would never full be erased, but he could forgive it. If only because Dean wasn't perfect himself and he wasn't exactly always the most upstanding guy before he had the good fortune to land in with Seth and Roman and to form the Shield.

Plus, he kind of got why Seth did it. They had been in-fighting, well him and Roman had, a lot, prior to the split. And every time when the two were just about to come to blows, Seth was always there to break it up. He called himself the glue that held the group together and the truth was, he was exactly that.

Dean and Roman never got along, ironically, until after Seth had betrayed them both. They became allies in making sure he paid for his actions and given they only had each other at that point, it brought them closer together.

But prior to that, it was Dean and Seth and Seth and Roman that made up the real friendships within the group. Seth and Roman because they were a formidable tag team, one with a crazy unbeaten streak and an absolute dominance to their in-ring style. Seth and Dean because of FCW, because of the wars they waged there and the respect they gained for the other in the process.

So to say that Seth betraying them was something Dean hadn't seen coming would have been the understatement of the year. Not even three months prior he had saved them. He had called the Shield Summit and had given them all the choice to walk away from one another, while making the case that their better option was to stay as a unit as they were stronger together.

Dean never really knew if Seth had honestly meant or believed that at the time, but he did and Roman must have too because they came back stronger than ever and took down Evolution in the process. But Triple H had a plan B, that son of a bitch always had a plan B. This one just so happened to be offering Seth everything he had ever wanted, everything that made his claims about how the Shield could take over the place seem unimportant by comparison. After all, why did he need them to be the next big thing when Triple H was promising it and actually had the connections to make it happen?

And this is where the disconnect came for the first two years because all Dean saw was red. He felt Seth had done more than betray their group but that he had killed their friendship as well and didn't even seem to give a damn. He had the opportunity to walk away, during that stupid summit, but he chose to keep them united, being the first to put his fist in the center of the ring after asking the question, "Are we done here, or are we done?" Roman and Dean followed suit, followed his lead. If Seth could keep them together, Dean knew he and Roman could do their part as well.

But then just three months later when Seth had an offer that wasn't there before, ending the Shield was just another instance of him doing what he claimed to be "best for business" and best for his own career advancement.

Having held the title now himself once, Dean kind of got it. He kind of understood that Seth was just pushing to pursue a singles career, taking an opportunity that at the time, he was sure both he and Roman would have too if it had been offered to them. It wasn't, so Dean was able to claim then he was better than falling for Triple H's games, but now, after the way he lost his own championship? Well, he was able to admit to himself that he would have done anything to keep the belt now and would have done anything to get it back then.

Where things were still murky however came in the matter of how Seth did what he did, not so much the why. Even with him taking Triple H's offer, they could have parted ways as friends, or at least on better terms. It didn't have to be personal. It really could have been just a business decision and Dean knew that he would have been angry about it then but in time he would have been okay with it. Because he would have watched Seth at the top and been able to be happy for him and only remotely jealous.

Instead, he found himself wanting to take everything from Seth. He stole his briefcase, he stole his title. He did everything in his power to make sure Seth got what he deserved and didn't get what Triple H had been promising him. That had become Dean's mission. Why? Because he always believed in justice and to him that was the best form of justice he felt he could bestow onto Seth.

So he wasn't exactly innocent in things either and he was a bit revenge-obsessed. The point was, Seth wasn't the only one who had made some mistakes back then and to the man's credit, he had become somewhat of a changed man since coming back from his injury. Sure he was still the same annoying, self-entitled prick Dean had come to loathe, but without the Authority, rather with the Authority having turned their back on him, there was something different.

Dean wasn't sure if it was good different, bad different or just different-different until he watched Seth grab a chair from Roman's hands, a chair that was mere seconds from coming down right across his face. Seth had saved him from an assault at the hands of yet another turned former brother and neither of them really could figure out why.

Guilt? Perhaps.

A change of heart? Less likely.

Finally seeing the full impact of the damage he caused? Possibly.

Whatever the reason, that was kind of the moment that gave Seth points, the one that made Dean realize he could forgive the two-time champ for being the one to hit him with the chair two years prior. It was like he made up for it and in Dean's mind, it was easier to go fully after Roman for the way he shit on their relationship, one that had become even closer than what either of them had with Seth, if he was only holding a vicious grudge against one of his former brothers. So, Dean knew he could drop the anger and the hatred toward Seth for disbanding their brotherhood. That part was actually coming easier than he thought all things considered.

But Dean wasn't a saint, not even close, and while he could forgive a lot, the betrayal included, what he couldn't get past and what he knew he'd never get past was what it felt like to have his head smashed through a pile of cinderblocks and the man who did it simply stand there and laugh after it was done.

Seth didn't care. He didn't care about Dean's career or hell, even about his well-being, his life. The curbstomp could have killed Dean, it could have left him brain damaged or paralyzed or with a broken neck or all of the above. The fact that he still got headaches every now and again was about the best he could have hoped for given it could have been so much worse.

And not once in two years had Seth apologized. Not once had he shown any hint of regretting it. In fact, he often mocked it. Often joked about how he deserved credit for Dean being not right in the head. Hell, he even threw the man a eulogy for his career, a clip that Dean was hard-pressed to lie, but had watched it close to 50 times.

" _And those headaches that Dean Ambrose will have for the rest of his life, are no accident. And every time his head throbs in pain, he'll remember what a mistake he made by not walking away from me when he had the chance."_

Those words quite frankly, still haunted him. He knew them vividly. He knew Seth's entire eulogy vividly, so clearly that he could recite the words forward and backwards if anyone had asked him to. He had lived it. He had lived his skull nearly cracking under the weight of Seth's boot pushing it against the concrete blocks. He had lived the next week, as Seth rolled the clip and smiled.

Dean knew just how much pleasure Seth got out of that incident. He knew that Seth had every intention for his injuries to be worse. Maybe he wanted him to never wrestle again. Maybe he hated him so much that he actually did want him to suffer brain bleeding or a broken neck or worse.

Whatever the reason, it crossed the line from Seth's actions being completely business. There was malice in that stomp and Dean would never forget it.

So no, Seth shouldn't have been allowed to say time and again that his actions were not personal because when you almost end a man's life or at the very least try to, it's personal. It's extremely, undeniably personal.

And the fact that Seth was so callously able to look past that made Dean sick to his stomach. This was a man he trusted, this was someone he called a brother. Dean had gone through a lot of damage in his time as a wrestler. He had broken bones, bled more than anyone ever needed to, almost punctured a lung, but he never felt more hurt and more betrayed as he did in that moment when Seth looked him in the eye and stomped him in the face.

Dean was so busy reflecting on the memory that simply wouldn't go away, that he hadn't heard the locker room door open and Seth walk in. As Dean looked up, he noticed the two were alone. Seth nodded at him and Dean did the same in return. And then Seth smiled, that same smile Dean had come to love and hate at the same time, the same smile that could be worn in praise and protection or deviously and with a desire to harm.

"You uh, seemed a little off out there," Seth said after the two had remained in silence for close to 10 minutes. "Everything okay?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Just feeling the effects of a big headache I haven't been able to shake all day."

"Oh," Seth replied. "Well, I've got some stuff in my bag if you think it might help."

Dean couldn't help but laugh. "Not that kind of headache Seth," he said curtly.

"Hangover?" Seth asked somewhat cheekily.

Again Dean laughed dryly. Humor was honestly the only way he was able to survive that situation without crumbling into a ball of tears just thinking about what a man he used to consider his best friend was so easily and so callously able to do to him.

"Noooo," he drew out the word slowly. "More like, one of those headaches Dean Ambrose will have for the rest of his life. The ones that were no accident."

Seth's face turned white almost on the spot.

"What's a matter Seth?" Dean asked softly. "Looks like you've seen a ghost? Or maybe, you just saw your conscience, finally showing up after all of these years."

Seth was motionless, he was speechless.

"Cool, good talk," Dean added as he brushed past him and towards the door. He had one more parting thing to add before he left.

"You ever see a neurologist before Seth?" Dean asked, not giving Seth a chance to answer even if he had been planning on it. "Yeah, it sucks. But hey, at least I'm alive right? At least I'm not in a fuckin' wheelchair or buried six feet under the ground. So I guess this throbbing in my head will just continue to be a reminder of the mistake I made ever trusting you."

With that, Dean slammed the door and left the room, leaving Seth stunned and alone, to contemplate the biggest mistake he had ever made in his entire life.


	2. What Have I Done?

**Quick shout-out to all of you who have read, reviewed, favorited, followed this story. It means the world. I decided to continue with it a bit because of the support so here's part two, this time telling the story through Seth's eyes. Oh and a heads up, hope you like angsty angst with an angst cherry on top because this one, well, if it doesn't hit you in the feels the way it did when I wrote it… Well, just read and you'll see what I mean. Enjoy!**

(August 18, 2014)

"I am so sick and tired of Ambrose constantly standing in my way," Seth complained in a huff as Triple H, Stephanie, Kane and Randy all were forced to listen. It would have been one thing if it was the first time but it wasn't and it was clear that the other members of the Authority were getting tired of Seth's whining on the subject.

"I try to cash in the briefcase, that is when he hasn't stolen it, and he's there. He's a cockroach that just won't die no matter how hard I try. Can't you do something about that? Hunter? Steph? Can't you get rid of him?" Seth almost begged until the perfect idea hit him. "Fire him, yeah, that would work."

Triple H looked at his wife and the two couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" Seth frowned.

"Seth, we're not just going to fire Dean Ambrose because he's causing problems for you," Stephanie explained. "You claim to be the Man right? Well, prove it. If you're having a problem with Dean, take care of it the way we've taught you, the best way you know how."

"You know what H would have done, what he has done, what I have done, in these kinds of situations?" Randy teased. "We took out the trash permanently. Seth, Dean's making you look like a joke, more so than you already are. You're really just going to take that lying down? How about you try to prove something to yourself, to him, to the Authority, that you're every bit the tactical mastermind you claim to be."

Seth tensed and he and Randy once again, got into a stare down, only to be broken up by Stephanie, who pushed Randy back much to the Viper's displeasure.

"Randy does have a point," she said to Seth, causing the older man to grin ear to ear. "Now, we believe in you. We wouldn't have chosen you, hand-picked you if we didn't. But you need to believe in yourself. You need to show that you can handle Ambrose once and for all. And we can help you Seth, but we can't do it for you."

Seth nodded slightly. He knew Stephanie was right. He had to do this, he had to prove this, on his own.

"Randy, Stephanie, can I have a moment alone with Seth and Kane?" Triple H asked without really asking, finally inserting himself in the conversation.

Both Stephanie and Randy left without hesitation.

"Now Seth," Hunter said as he put his arm around his protégé. "You want to take care of Ambrose, you want to show him that if he messes with you again it's going to be a problem for him?"

"Yes," Seth said, not even needing to think about it.

"Then you go out there tonight and you beat the living hell out of him in the match," Hunter said. "It's falls count anywhere, the fans voted, so you'll have Kane out there and a little something special by the announce table. When the time is right, it will be revealed and you're a smart guy Seth. You'll know exactly, exactly what to do with it."

Seth seemed a bit nervous. He never really liked surprises. But he trusted Triple H and he knew that the man got results. So he wasn't going to question whatever was out there for him. He was just going to use it and hope that once and for all, it would end the persistent Dean Ambrose problem.

"Show them," Hunter continued. "Randy thinks you're weak, Steph thinks you're dependent, Dean thinks you're a sell-out. The whole world thinks you can't stand on your own two feet. Show them Seth, show me, show yourself, show them all that you are none of those things. Show them that when there's a job that needs to be done, you don't back down and when there's someone standing in the way of what you want that you'll do anything it takes, anything necessary to eliminate them from the equation. Can you do that Seth?"

(Present Day)

It had been close to 10 minutes and Seth still hadn't moved. He'd barely even taken a breath, that memory just playing back in his head. He didn't know Kane was going to be revealing cinderblocks. It was one thing to curb stomp Dean through the announce table, which he had done but again through cinderblocks?

That was Triple H's solution, the one he had blindly agreed to?

Seth felt a lump in his throat the second he saw the blocks and it only got bigger as Kane grabbed Dean's hair and positioned his head mere inches above the gravelly, white means of his former brother's destruction. He looked at Seth and Seth could barely breathe. Hunter had been right. When the time came and the "something special" left by the boss was exposed, he did know exactly what the Authority wanted him to do with it. It didn't take a rocket scientist really.

But what they wanted to do and what he wanted to do quickly became two distinct things altogether. Cinderblocks? Did they not realize that what they were suggesting he do could have ended Dean's career, could have ended his life?

Maybe they did and they just didn't care. Maybe they expected him not to care either. After all, Seth was the one who came to them for help with his problem. He was the one who said he was willing to do anything to get rid of Dean once and for all. Of course, he never meant literally as in erase him from this planet, but his words were still strong and carried conviction.

He tried to rationalize what he was doing, tried to talk himself both in and out of what was expected of him. On one hand, if he didn't go through with it, the Authority would know that he was just as weak and spineless as certain members had been classifying him as. But if he did go through with it, Dean might never be the same again. He'd no longer be a problem for Seth anymore, but there was a chance he'd no longer be himself anymore either. And as much as Seth hated the man and wanted to wring his neck most of the time, that prospect scared him.

Because the truth of the matter was that betraying his brothers really wasn't meant to be anything personal. Sure, using the steel chair probably didn't convey that point in the best way, but this was strictly about his career, his advancement, his opportunity. And after months of wondering when not if, Roman and Dean were finally going to turn on each other, he couldn't risk missing the chance to get out and get on top.

He never hated his brothers. He even kind of hoped they could still be friends in spite of his decision. Of course, knowing Dean, that was never going to be the case, but Seth hadn't anticipated just how far the lengths the man would go to destroy him and destroy everything he worked for. Everything he well, schemed for was probably the better way of looking at it. But back then, Seth didn't see anything he did as being wrong. That was until the curb stomp on August 18, 2014.

He could still hear Michael Cole's voice: "Oh my God, what the, stop him, somebody stop him. Somebody stop Kane, somebody get him off there, somebody get him down. NO, no, no, no, no, no!"

Seth's head just shot up in the middle of the empty room and his heart started pounding in his chest. The picture was playing out perfectly, too perfectly. He could hear every sound, remember every detail, sense every feeling.

That impact, God, that impact. The sound of Dean's head crashing through the blocks, breaking them, or as far as Seth knew at that moment, the blocks breaking him, made his stomach sick. His legs were weak from the match and he collapsed to the floor, seeing Dean in an unmoving heap.

Seth slowly began to crawl away but he kept his eyes fixed on Dean.

In that moment he wanted nothing more than to push everyone else away and place his head next to his former brother's. He wanted to apologize to Dean on the spot, to brush his hair out of his face, to beg of him to move even an inch. He was frozen in time though and all he could do was stare at the sight in front of him, the sight he was entirely responsible for.

He finally made his way to his feet, using what was left of the announce table for balance. He continued to look at Dean, no one else. His eyes were fixed on the man who dammit, still hadn't moved and Seth's own eyes showed just how scared and remorseful he was.

For just a second, his trained eyes looked away. They found Kane, who just smiled at him as if to non-verbally express his satisfaction and how proud he was at him for going through with it. But Seth didn't feel pride, he didn't feel satisfied. He felt like he was going to throw up.

As he made his way closer to Dean, Charles Robinson immediately stood in his way, blasting both he and Kane, telling them, "you went too far, you both went too far."

No truer words had been spoken.

Seth didn't really blame the ref either for not letting him get any closer to Dean. As far as the refs and the medical personnel knew, Seth wasn't done and that he was going to make sure the job was finished before leaving. But that wasn't his intent, it could have never been his intent. But one thing was certain, he wouldn't leave until he knew Dean was okay, or at least relatively speaking.

So to get a better view, Seth hopped up on the table. He almost punched Kane in the face when the man had the audacity to raise his hand in the air as if he had won some big prize, as if he had won the match. The man simply didn't care, as the rest of the Authority didn't, what happened to Dean. They cared about their own interests and Seth just wished that he had figured that out sooner, that it hadn't taken his own career-threatening injury for him to realize how self-serving Hunter and co really were.

But at the time, he didn't have the courage and he didn't have the belief in himself to break away, so he maintained face as to not cause them any suspicion. He let Kane raise his hand and place the championship back on his shoulder. He didn't feel like a champion though, not even close.

Seth took one last look at Dean and laughed. It wasn't self-preservation, it wasn't some sick and twisted sense of pleasure. It was simply a nervous reaction, because he was terrified that he might have done something so unimaginable to Dean that the man might never be the same again. He already had an innumerable amount of regret but seeing Dean, still not moving, was enough to make him absolutely crumble.

And then there was the thought of what Roman would do to him when he found out. He would kill him, Seth was sure of it. He would make him feel every last ounce of pain Dean had felt and the sad part was, Seth wouldn't even blame him.

The moment was fleeting however and thoughts of himself and what Roman might do to him were once again quickly replaced by concern, genuine concern, for his fallen brother.

As Seth was lost in those fears, Kane raised his hand, again, much to his displeasure, and his music hit. He took one last look at Dean, watching as the paramedics loaded him onto the stretcher, stabilizing his neck to avoid further damage. They all looked at him in horror that any human being could do what he did. The fans booed his name.

But Kane, he smiled and nodded. That was too much for Seth. How he himself had managed to smile right before he did it was beyond himself, but seeing the damage, how anyone could delight in that, was pure evil. It was the Authority at its finest and now, he had become one of them. He had become a person he would never be able to look at the same way in a mirror ever again.

Seth tore to the back as fast as he could, ignoring the shocked looks of his co-workers in the process.

He knew everybody wanted to ask "Why Seth, why?" And he knew that there was no answer he could give them that would seem sincere and genuine. The truth was, he knew why he did it. He knew why he made the decision to go through with it. He just didn't know how. How he could have become that person? How he could have almost ended Dean's life with little to no regard? How he could stand there and not have the courage, not have the strength to walk away?

Stephanie had been right. He was dependent on the Authority and that meant being dependent on them accepting him entirely. And to that, he had to prove to them he was a monster. Prove to them he was a worthless, awful human being. Prove to them, to himself, to Dean, to everyone, that he deserved every harsh word said, every insult thrown his way, every pang of guilt he was sure to have for the rest of his life.

Dean had been his brother and while they stopped recognizing each other as such several months prior, family was forever and the fact that he was able to do what he did to his family, to someone who had been a true friend, nearly killed him.

But months went by, years even, and Seth hadn't breathed a word of any of that to Dean. Instead, he accepted who he had become. He got more and more ingrained with the Authority, even becoming the last surviving member as both Kane and Randy wore out their welcome. He was Triple H-lite, a reputation he didn't always love to have.

He never forgot though. The memories never stopped haunting him. He just pushed them back and pushed them back and pushed them back. And seeing Dean recover, seeing Dean come back stronger than ever and with more fight in him than Seth remembered, did admittedly make it easier for him. It wasn't that the guilt went away, just that it had subsided as Seth was able to live with the fact he hadn't killed Dean, hadn't even paralyzed him. As sick as it sounded, that was a comforting feeling, one that made the curb stomp incident seem less and less painful.

But there was a look in Dean's eyes that returned that night in the locker room, a look that reminded Seth so much of the one he saw that day. If only for a second, before Seth had to force himself to turn away, their eyes met. No words were said, but Seth could read the sadness, the shock, the absolute anguish. Dean's eyes were looking at him in a way he never, ever wanted to see again. They stung with hurt at what he was about to do, they pleaded with him not to do it. But he did and he had never been able to look into those eyes the same way again.

Seth's own eyes, which like his very soul held nothing but self-loathing, were trained on his phone at this point, the video of the disgusting eulogy he gave playing quietly. As if the curb stomp wasn't enough, he had to go and do that. He had to go and delight in the fact that he took Dean out of commission, possibly permanently.

Reflecting on all of that, Seth wondered, had he ever really felt that guilty? Because a person who had felt that guilty, that heartwrenchingly sick and disgusted with themselves, never would have done it in the first place. They sure as hell never would have eulogized the man's career and mocked the incident every chance they had. They wouldn't have used it to their advantage.

Seth hated himself, he absolutely hated himself. He hated what he did and more so he hated who he did it too. He may not have fully understood that then but he sure as hell did now. Without the Authority, without their influence, Seth had done what Triple H wanted him to do all along. He had come to stand on his own two feet. And that meant realizing he had already been doing that all along with the Shield, just in a different way.

He wished every minute of every day that he could go back, but it was too late. Battle lines had been drawn. Triple H had now convinced Roman to turn on Dean as well, and Seth, well, he had done the unthinkable, the unforgiveable, and the unimaginable with those damn cinderblocks.

Consumed in his regrets, Seth heard the door begin to creak open. He did his best to compose himself but there was no real way of that happening. He knew whoever was about to walk in that door would have instantly seen it on his face.

Fortunately for him, it was someone who honestly couldn't have cared less.

"Forgot one of my bags," Dean said as he walked past Seth, not even bothering to look at him. Seth too, didn't utter a word.

"See you next week," Dean added. He had his hand grasped on the knob when Seth finally spoke, his first words in close to half an hour.

"Dean, wait," he said, his voiced pained and heavy.

To his surprise, Dean turned back and looked at him. For the first time in a long time, the two pairs of eyes met. The gaze was steely but trapped behind it were the memories of that day and both of them knew it.

"We need to talk about, about the cinderblocks," Seth said.

Dean didn't say a word. He didn't know what to do. But his instinct took over. Taking a deep breath and convincing himself he was making the right decision, Dean shut the door and took a seat on the same bench Seth was sitting on. The two didn't make eye contact, both of them staring at the ground, at the walls, at anything but each other.

"Talk," Dean simply said.

And that was it. There was no going back.

 **Thanks to all of you who supported this little story. It started as a one-shot, became a two-shot because, I seem to not miss an opportunity to get into Seth's head, and well, I can't possibly leave you all here waiting with bated breath for the conversation of a lifetime, can I? … No, I can't. See you soon for part three!**


	3. There's No Going Back

**A/N – Sorry to keep ya'll waiting but I've become really proud of this short little story and needed this chapter to be as close to perfect as possible. So, 6ish round of edits later and I think it's finally at the point I'm ready to post it. It's a little long but I think it has to be. Hope everybody enjoys the third and final installment!**

The second those words left Seth's mouth, it was like a dark cloud had descended over the room. Neither man wanted to speak, neither wanted to move. And yet the physical distance on the already small bench seemed to be growing as Dean subconsciously shifted his body closer and closer toward the edge. Seth noticed the burgeoning gap but he wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't sure what, if anything, he could do.

But he knew that it fell on him on to figure that out. He had initiated this discussion after all, had been the one to broach the topic that he was sure Dean hadn't wanted to talk about it. Actually, he hadn't been sure of that at all, given before today, he had never even tried to bring up the subject.

Perhaps he was just projecting his own feelings onto Dean because for the longest time, the cinderblocks had become something Seth himself would have rather kept locked away, never to be spoken about ever. He was too afraid, too much of a coward and of course, he was once again being selfish.

He and Dean had gotten somewhat close ever since Roman practically took Seth's place as Triple H's new lap dog. They had managed to get along even and Seth had relished every second of their newfound, well, whatever it was. He would have been an idiot to think however that his big, colossal mistake from two years ago didn't stand between them. And he knew, he knew the second it ever came up, whether by accident or an intentional choice, that any progress he had made towards Dean's forgiveness would go straight out the window. He hadn't wanted to risk that given what the returning connection had meant to him.

But when Seth playfully attempted to make a joke about Dean's headache, completely not even thinking about how what he did two years ago could have been the cause of it, he came to realize he had been the one, not Dean, to open up the can of worms he had wanted for nothing more than to stay buried.

Seth instantly saw the way Dean froze when he dared to mention the c-word. He saw his body tense up. But to Dean's credit, the man had indulged him to this point. He hadn't been the one, like Seth, to shy away from the incident out of a need to quell his own guilt and selfishness. Rather, it having been on his mind ever since he woke up with the throbbing pain in his skull that morning, Dean seemed like he wanted to talk about it, wanted to address the elephant in the room.

And it made sense to Seth that after all these years that Dean would want to talk about that day, about the deplorable, reprehensible actions he committed against his own brother. He knew because he put himself in that same situation and in doing so, there was only one thing Seth knew for sure, one conclusion he came to every time he imagined the roles being reversed.

He would just want to know why.

Finding there was no more room to distance himself from Seth on the bench and realizing the pair had been sitting in silence for close to 15 minutes now, Dean stood up and began to walk back toward the door he came in from. He didn't leave though, but just paused a few inches away, his hand wrapped firmly around the knob.

"This was a bad idea," he said, staring down at the ground. "I should-"

Dean stopped mid-sentence as yet another jolt of pain was making its way through his head. This one was even worse than before and as his vision began to blur, Dean nearly fell to his knees. His hands were twitching, his whole body visibly shaking. He felt like someone was drilling holes into his brain and the pain was unbearable.

Seth was absolutely ill and could only watch in horror and disgust. This man who he had gone to war with so many times, who always came across as fearless, the guy who liked to think and act like he was the strongest one in the room, was literally crumbling before him and it was his fault.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

"Dean are you okay?" Seth asked nervously, immediately regretting his stupid question. Of course the man wasn't okay. That much was obvious.

Dean seemed to treat the question with as much disdain as it deserved but he didn't respond to Seth. He couldn't. In that moment he had one thing on his mind and it was the bag that he left in the locker room before he left. The bag that he drove close to two hours back for because he knew he might need it. The bag that quite possibly was the only thing that would give him even minimal relief from one of the worse migraines he had ever had in his life.

Nearly pushing Seth out of the way in his haste to grab the means of his salvation, Dean stumbled over to his locker, all the while grasping his head with his left hand, trying to put more external pressure on the wound so that the internal throbbing wouldn't seem as bad. That had long become his strategy when the pain got like this. It was why he often had bruises covering his temple, why on more than one occasion, Roman found him violently slamming his head into the hardest object he could find be it a wall, a door, a metal locker. It was probably making things worse in the long run but it provided him the temporary relief he so desperately needed.

Besides, he was almost impervious to that kind of physical torture these days. Almost…

As Seth looked on with a watchful, broken gaze, Dean pulled out the old, beat-up blue medicine bag and began to root through its contents frantically. Bottle after bottle he scanned but his head was in so much pain, he couldn't read the labels. Everything was jumbled and it was hurting even more trying to decipher what was in front of him.

Fighting off another almost debilitating shot of pain, this one feeling like he was being run over by a truck on a continuous loop, Dean began throwing the bottles across the room in anguish. He hadn't realized what he was doing until he saw Seth picking them up off of the ground, the man's jaw almost dropping to the floor as he read label after label.

 _Duloxetene_ , a drug used to combat a state of chronic neuropathic pain.

 _Wellbutrin_ , an antidepressant prescribed to combat anxiety and depression.

 _OxyContin_ , another pain medication, and one that just happened to have addictive properties.

 _Perkoset_ , oh look, yet another high intensity pain pill.

Seth wasn't exactly a medical expert but he had always made it a point to know exactly what was going into his body, medication included. Not to mention he had just spent the last seven months recovering from three separate joint/ligament injuries so he was quite familiar with the prescribed pain pills and their varying strengths. In fact, he had even been known to take one or two on those really, really bad days.

But this wasn't Dean taking one or two pills every now and again Seth realized, as most of the bottles were empty or close to it. This was him taking at least four different prescriptions, which permitting he wasn't improperly self-medicating meant at least four high strength pills, a number which was way too high.

And Seth had seen Dean's medicine cabinet at his place in Vegas. He knew how he was when it came to taking pills. It wasn't that Dean was addicted to anything but he was always the guy to take one extra Advil, or mix aspirin with something a little stronger. Unlike Seth who read every ingredient and was familiar with every side effect on every label, Dean just popped the drugs and waited for the eventual relief. He never really thought twice about taking another pill if it meant a quicker recovery time.

That's when it hit Seth. Dean somehow managed to return from the devastating, possibly life-threatening neck and head injury caused by the curbstomp in just 34 days. It took just a little over a month for him to come back from having his head driven through cinderblocks. Under normal circumstances, that was nowhere near enough time for a full recovery. This made Seth start to feel increasingly nervous and scared at what Dean had been putting in his body in that time to enable him to come back so quick.

"Oh Dean," Seth said just barely above a whisper, his heart shattering at the thought of Dean's pain and how bad it really was.

The man had masked it so well for two years. Seth never knew even though he should have. He should have been smart enough to realize one doesn't just walk away from that kind of impact without any sort of lasting damage, but he wasn't or at the very least he didn't want to be. Dean looked no worse for the wear and admittedly, that was how Seth chose to see it given it was a hell of a lot easier on his conscience that way.

He chose to ignore the voice in his head that said something had to be wrong. Dean was a tough SOB after all, so if anyone could bounce back from that, it was him. At least, that was what Seth told himself, what he made himself believe on those nights when his head just replayed the incident over and over again rendering him unable to get any sleep.

But now he knew why he had those nightmares, he knew why that voice inside of his head kept persisting, kept telling him to reach out, to check on Dean even under the guise of being an enemy. He knew that nagging feeling was right and that the man hadn't really been okay. After all, how could he possibly have been?

Dean and Seth locked eyes for a brief moment before the older man really squinted hard, finally identifying the bottle he wanted and snatched it from Seth's hands. He popped open the cap and threw its contents into his mouth, not caring what Seth's opinion of him was and not caring if it was one or two or even three pills that he swallowed. In that moment, he needed all of them and probably some more, but he doubted Seth would allow him the other bottle that he now held almost protectively behind his back and out of Dean's reach.

"Fuck you," Dean spat out angrily as he saw the look of pity mixed with desperation and guilt plastered on Seth's face. "You don't get to judge me. You don't get to feel sorry for me. No. Not when you did this. Not when all of this is your damn fault! So how about you just give me my pills and leave, because the more I think about it the more I realize, you and I don't have anything we need to talk about."

Again Seth's heart broke because he knew that Dean was absolutely, 100 percent right.

Before, it had been the guilt that ate him alive, this idea that he was the horrible person others accused him of being. After those cinderblocks, there was no denying that. But now he hurt _for_ Dean. His heart broke _for_ Dean. He saw the pain in his fallen brother's eyes, the meaning behind the words.

Seth knew he had to do something and as he looked at the bottle in his hand, it became obvious.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly as he emptied the contents of the _Duloxetene_ onto the floor and then proceeded to crush the pills beneath his feet much to Dean's shock and anger.

The man seethed as he shot daggers at Seth's direction. "You're gonna regret that," he said matter-of-factly, his gaze now focused on the remaining bottles strewn across the locker room floor, all of which were well within his former best friend's reach.

"I'll just get another prescription," Dean added as he noticed Seth reaching for another discarded container. "I'm due for half a dozen or so refills anyway."

Seth was starting to get frustrated. He had always been the one to preach to Dean and Roman that their bodies should be treated like temples. That as strong as they seemed, you always had to pay attention to what you were putting into them. Even then Dean never really listened and it bothered Seth but he was never really concerned for the man's wellbeing. After all, it wasn't like he was putting all kinds of heavy narcotics in his body. Well, at least he hadn't in the past.

"Dean, you can't just keep getting prescriptions for this stuff," Seth argued. "You realize you're currently on four, or I should say at least four, serious grade pills all at once. That's not healthy. Hell, it's practically suicidal, like you've got a death wish or something."

Again the room fell silent as Dean averted his gaze to the floor, essentially telling Seth all he needed to know.

"Shit, you, you do," the younger man barely managed to get out, even the thought almost too much to bear.

"So what if I did?" Dean finally snapped. "Can you blame me? Would anybody fuckin' blame me? I could wake up tomorrow and finally get up the courage to pull the trigger on the gun that I hold to my head every night and no one would be able to fault me for it. You know better than anyone the shit I went through as a kid. You knew how hard it was for me to trust people, how apprehensive I was about letting anybody in. God, you knew all of that and then you threw it in my damn face. You and Roman. Were you happy with yourselves? Were you happy that both of you took the last bit of trust I had left and just stomped on it, figuratively AND literally? I was always the weak link right? Always the whipping boy. You said it yourself before our title match. You only kept me around to take the beatings. Looks like you got your wish Sethie boy because all my life I ain't been taking nothing but beatings. I just never thought they'd be coming from two people I considered to be brothers. Fool me once shame on you but fool me twice and the joke's on Dean fuckin' Ambrose. So yeah, you stabbed me in the back and Roman saw fit to the do the same and I was too damn blind to see it coming. The two people I trusted more than anything in this world and both of you turned out to just be pieces of shit. So tell me why I should give a damn about my own life given I have nothing left to live for?"

Seth was quiet. He didn't know what to say. It really had been so much worse than he thought. As much as the physical implications had become all too obvious to him, so too did Dean's mental and emotional anguish. This may as well have been killing the man, literally killing him.

And as much as Seth didn't want to even consider Dean's words about pulling the trigger being true, he could see it in the man's eyes. Seth could see the pain eating him alive. He could understand how the sensation to end it all could be tempting given what he had done and what Roman had done. But he didn't want it. He didn't even want to think about it. His mind had already been forced to go there once thanks to his own actions. He refused to do it again thanks to Dean's mentality or anything else for that matter.

"Dean I," Seth began, stopping when he realized he had nothing. In that moment, words wouldn't fix anything, neither would an apology as overdue as it was. But maybe something else would.

"Hit me," Seth changed his course, causing Dean to look up from his own weakness and face him. "Punch me, kick me, leave me on the floor in a bloody pulp, put my head through cinderblocks, I don't care. Just do it. Hit me."

Dean just shook his head as he calmly began to clean up the mess of pill bottles that surrounded him.

"If I thought making sure you never walked again or putting you in the hospital would have fixed anything, I would have done it two years ago," he said dryly as he returned to his seat opposite Seth on the locker room bench. "What's done is done."

Seth turned to face Dean. This time it was his eyes doing the pleading like Dean's had two years ago.

"No," Seth said as he fought back tears of his own, his tone broken and barely above a whisper. "You don't get to basically tell me you're suicidal and just expect me to not do anything about it. Tell me how I can fix this. Whatever it is, whatever I need to do, I'll do it."

"You can't," Dean responded sadly, his entire soul encapsulated in those words. This had broken him beyond repair, worse than he ever imagined. Worse than he ever knew until he was standing face to face with Seth, the man begging for another chance. But Dean was all out of chances. He was all out of sympathy.

He had been betrayed twice, this most recent time cutting deeper than the first. He had nothing left to give either of them. He had nothing left to give himself. He was constantly in pain and sure the medicine helped, it helped a lot, but nothing would heal the hole in his heart. And as much as he wanted to take Seth at his word, to believe the man's sincerity, there was too much damage for him to bring himself back to that place. There were too many voices, too many images in his head. And those were on his good days. On the bad days, when he saw nothing but black, he just wanted it to be over.

"Please," Seth's voice trembled, barely managing to cut through Dean's thoughts. "Please, there has to be something, anything."

Dean thought about it for a moment.

"Can you build a time machine?" he asked bitterly, already knowing the answer. "Can you build a time machine and go back to August 18, 2014, go back to when I looked you in the eyes and I begged you not to do it? Can you go back to before you and Kane decided to reveal cinderblocks, before you decided to bash my head through them? Better yet Seth, can you go back to June 2nd of the same year, the day you decided I didn't mean anything to you anymore? The day you threw away more than two years of friendship? The day you shattered my heart into a million pieces only to later shatter my head into a million pieces too? Can you do that Seth? Can you go back to a time where I didn't need so many damn pills just to function, just to be able to do my job without passing out from pain? Can you go back to a time before I had to see a neurologist once a month just to make sure the swelling that never went away, isn't getting any bigger? Because if you can't, if you can't undo all of the shitty things you did, then I think we're done here. I think its best that you and I part ways and I deal with this on my own, without you, without Roman, like I always have for the majority of my life."

Seth watched as Dean began to once again make his way for the door, this time, bag in hand and no reason to turn back. He could tell that Dean was slipping away, could tell that this might be the last chance he had to make things right, or at least as much as was humanly possible. Nothing would ever erase his actions from that day, no amount of apologies would ever suffice.

That was the day Seth killed a part of Dean, a quite substantial part he now realized, and there was nothing he could do to take that back. Seth hated that but at the end of the day, he had absolutely no one to blame but himself and his own stupid, misguided sense of loyalty.

That word felt like a prick against his tongue because as time went by he knew he had chosen the wrong person, remained loyal to the wrong person. Had he just seen that sooner, none of what Dean was going through would have happened. Even if Dean never spoke to Seth again because of the first stupid, misguided act of aligning with the Authority, Seth knew he would have been able to breathe easy knowing his brother would be okay, knowing he would be alive.

"I'm worried about you," Seth said quietly, his eyes trained on the floor. He just barely caught Dean as he walked out of the door.

Dean just took a deep breath.

"Really nothing I can do about that Rollins," he said, his momentum still toward the hallway. "And honestly, I can't bring myself to care. I wish I could but I can't. All I see are those blocks and your smiling face as you put me through them. So as far as I see it, you don't get to be sad. You don't get to be in agony. I'm in agony. I'm in agony every single day. You didn't just physically mess me up, it was emotional too. You hurt me worse than anybody ever has, than anybody ever could. So excuse me for not wanting to entertain your feelings or remorse or regret or whatever. And let's be honest Seth, where the hell is all of this coming from? Maybe had you tried to apologize back then, had you acted like you made a mistake and wanted to make up for it then, maybe, I would have considered forgiving you. But this is two years too late. In fact, it's insulting. Because we both know that if Roman hadn't turned out to be as big a scumbag as you that none of this would be happening. Be indignant about it all you want, but this is your own conscious waking up and realizing the shit you pulled was so beyond reproach. You're here with your head in your hands, begging me to be okay, but it's not for me, it's for you. It's so you can sleep at night. You need to know that what you did to ol Deano that day, 'wasn't that bad.' Well, I hate to break it to ya Rollins but it was that bad. Hell, it was so much worse."

Dean turned around and again their eyes met. The man would have been lying if he said he didn't know in that moment just how much Seth meant all of the words he had been saying, all of the apology he had been trying to give. It just didn't matter. As sincere as it was, it was well past the point for Dean where any of it could matter.

"Before you saw fit to abandon me, abandon what we had," he said, his breath momentarily catching in his throat, "you hosted that stupid summit. Remember? Guess that was before Hunter put the offer on the table or hell maybe it wasn't. Maybe you already knew that you were gonna stab me and Roman in the back. It doesn't matter. But that day, you got the three of us in the ring and you laid it out there. You said we'd be stronger together, that we would forever run this company together. But you also said that you understood if it was time we go our separate ways. You put your fist in the center of the ring and you asked us, 'Are we done here or are we done?'"

Dean took another short pause as he came to grips with what he needed to do. For his own sanity, the little bit that was left, this had to end. It had to end in this very room. It was fitting because this very arena was where it all began four years prior when three unknowns from FCW became the greatest thing to happen to professional wrestling in well over a decade.

Back then he believed in the Shield and what they stood for. He believed in their brotherhood being stronger than anything. But now, after everything, he couldn't even conceive of how he ever did.

"I can't do this anymore Seth," he said softly. "As crazy as it sounds, I don't hate you. I hate what you did. I hate what I've become, but I don't hate you and I don't think I ever could. So take that as the best I can give you, the best I'll ever be able to give you. You and I, we're not friends, we're not ever gonna be friends again. And I know I can't stop you from coming out and saving my ass in that ring, but if I ever meant anything to you, please don't anymore. I can handle myself and seeing you, it's just been confusing. I honestly thought I could put this crap in the past, but I was kidding myself. I was kidding myself in believing I could get past you trying to end my life. That's how much I wanted what we had back Seth. I wanted it so badly I kept trying to convince myself I could put your actions in the past. But every time I thought I could, the headaches came back. My brain was reminding me that I can never trust you again, not fully, not in the way I did. That I could never feel safe around you again. That I could never place my life in your hands given how callously you treated it. I'm two years late, but when you build that time machine, I want to go back to that summit, before you fucked everything up. I want to go back to a time when we all could have walked away and pursued our singles careers but would have still been brothers. Before you and Roman decided I wasn't worth anything to you. But I can't. All I can do is move on. We're done Seth, we're just done."

That was it. That was exactly what Seth had been dreading, the reason why he wanted to never have to talk about the cinderblocks. He knew it wasn't fair to Dean but acting like it never happened was the only thing keeping what they had alive. But now, it was over. It was definitively over and Seth had no one to blame but himself.

Again, Dean made his way to the door but this time, it wasn't Seth's voice that stopped him, rather a slight touch of his arm.

"Here," Seth said as he opened Dean's balled up fist and placed the bottle he had refused to give up earlier in his hand.

"Thanks," Dean mumbled as he placed the bottle back in the bag with the others.

"Oh and Dean?" Seth barely choked out. "For what it's worth, I am so sorry, I am so so sorry. For that day, for the cinderblocks, for breaking up the Shield. I won't make excuses. The Authority didn't force me to do it. I did it. I did it and you can believe this or not, but the second I did, I regretted it. I know it didn't seem like it. I know I did that stupid eulogy and spewed those hateful words. But as I watched them cart you off on that stretcher, I knew what I was. I knew what I had become. I'll never be worthy of your forgiveness. I'll never be worthy of my own. But I just, if this is the last time I see you, the last time I talk to you, I needed you to know. I'm sorry Dean. You meant the world to me. You were my best friend. And I know, I wouldn't believe that either after all the shit I pulled, but it's true. I'm an awful person and I've done some awful things, mostly to the one person who I never thought I'd ever hurt. You trusting me, you opening up to me, that meant something to me too. And I wish I had valued that more. I wish I hadn't thrown it away in a stupid attempt to get a title. You mean more to me than that belt around Roman's waist ever could and if I had it all to do again, I would change everything. If it was between our friendship and me never becoming champion, I'd choose you every single time. I don't expect you to believe that. I don't even expect you to care. I don't expect you to suddenly decide I'm worth talking to again. And if that's what you want, distance, whatever, I'll do it. But I can't promise I won't have your back because I will, always. I don't care if its Roman, I don't care if its Triple H, I don't even care if its Sami Zayn. I'm never going to let anyone do to you what I did. Never. I know you won't accept anything else from me but accept that. Accept that as my promise to you. I, I can't take back what I've done. I can't make the headaches or the suicidal thoughts go away as much as I wish I could. God, you have no idea how much I wish I could. And I know, I know I can't fix us. I wouldn't even expect you to let me try. But I can't honor your wishes to stay away if someone is trying to screw you. I didn't let the Shield fall apart that day at the summit and I damn sure won't let you fall apart now."

Dean let the words sit for a few moments before doing something that completely caught both men off guard. Wiping a tear from Seth's cheek, Dean wrapped him in an embrace. The hug lasted for almost two full minutes before Dean finally pulled away. And it was in that moment that both of them knew that was the last hug they would likely ever share.

"I can't," Dean whispered as the two stood face to face.

Seth would have no idea. He would have no idea how much Dean wanted to tell him he would be okay, that they would be okay. But he couldn't. As much as Seth's words, as much as the literal revealing of the man's own broken heart touched Dean in a way he didn't think possible after what had happened on the night of August 18, 2014, the damage had already been done.

Those damn cinderblocks had already left an impression on both of their souls, on both of their bodies, that there was no going back and for the two of them as friends, there could be no moving forward. Not when interactions were nothing more than painful reminders, not when the other's eyes betrayed, if only to the other man, the deep level of ache and hurting that one solitary action caused. There was too much that remained between them.

It didn't matter how sorry Seth was. It didn't matter how tempted Dean was to let that be enough. He'd never forget. The headaches that he would have for the rest of his life, the headaches that Seth caused, they would never go away. And even if they did, two hearts would never heal from the emotional toll.

"Goodbye Seth," Dean said, his face laced with tears equal to the ones flowing from the younger man.

Seth didn't say another word. He just waited until Dean left the room. It was then that he locked the door and fell on the ground against it and just cried. Cried for what he had done, cried for the friendship he had lost, cried for the way Dean was suffering.

At this point, he had nothing left to give his brother, nothing but the tears of a thousand apologies, of a thousand regrets, of a thousand moments wishing he could build that time machine and that he could go back.

Because they both knew after today, that he would if he could.

 **A/N – So uhm yeah…**

 **If you don't hear from me for a while it's because I'm decompressing. Seriously though, emotionally this one kind of kicked my ass. I honestly think character-wise though it's definitely some of the best work I've done. But I'll let the readers be the judges of that. Would love to get feedback on this little series as a whole. And as always, thanks for reading. Means the world to me**

 **#Believeinthe … Maybe…**


End file.
